


A Brew-tiful Day

by bekahjrose



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Not Kingsman: The Golden Circle Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 21:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18881494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bekahjrose/pseuds/bekahjrose
Summary: After recovering from V-Day, Harry learned Eggsy was turned away from Kingsman for not passing the dog test. It's now been four years since Harry's seen his protégé, and a chance meeting on a lazy Saturday morning gives him an opportunity  to reconnect.A super fluffy, near-plotless coffee shop AU.





	A Brew-tiful Day

For all Eggsy was aware, Harry had died and stayed dead 4 years ago outside the church in Kentucky. With that in mind, when Harry crosses paths with him purely by chance on a rare Saturday morning off, he expects Eggsy’s reaction to be somewhere in the realm of shock, terror, and a light questioning of one’s faith. So prepared is Harry for the oncoming hysteria that he’s a little disappointed when all he gets instead is a disbelieving laugh and a warm smile.

“Harry Hart,” Eggsy says with a little chuckle and a shake of his head, eyes downcast, “Shoulda known a bullet to the head wasn’t enough to take you down.”

Harry preens, and it must slip into his face because Eggsy quickly swaps the smile for an amused smirk.

“Nah mate, Rox told me. We talk, you know.”

Eggsy must take the way Harry looks down, slightly embarrassed, as disapproval because he swiftly backtracks.

“Not much, not about missions or nothing. Just updates on you lot – y’know, Merlin, and… uh, Bors…” he trails off awkwardly in a manner that suggests he’s heard so little about Bors from Roxy that he’s not even certain the man is still alive. He is, for the record, and still a stale, humourless prick who Eggsy would never care to gossip about with his friend, Harry would bet.

“It’s fine, Eggsy,” Harry assures, “I’m sure Roxanne wouldn’t overstep,”

Eggsy’s shoulders relax and he’s smiling again, and god does he look good. He’s backlit by the midmorning sun which is forcing Harry to squint but creates a beautiful golden halo through Eggsy’s hair.

“Anyway,” Eggsy shrugs off the moment and brandishes the tiny pad in his hand, “What can I get you?”

It’s jarring – so caught up in the reunion was Harry that he hadn’t clued in yet. All he knew was one moment he was sat at a little pavement table contemplating his breakfast from the menu, and the next his heart was in his throat because there was Eggsy. It only made sense that, in context, Eggsy was his waiter. Sloppy, Hart. Very sloppy.

Harry’s gone quiet again and this time Eggsy shifts on his feet, a tiny frown pulling his brows together, “Alright, yeah, it’s no international spy, but…”

Harry blinks and quickly seeks to make amends, “No, of course. Forgive me, just a coffee, please. Black.”

Eggsy makes an aborted motion with the pad before slipping it back into his pocket without writing anything down. 

“Nothing to eat?” he asks, swapping Harry’s menu for a table number.

The thing is, Harry’d actually been looking forward to his little breakfast all week. He’d not seen a Saturday morning away from headquarters in months, and the thought of a full English to himself while he watched the world go by sounded like pure heaven. Now, however, his stomach is churning in an odd way that makes him nervous to tempt fate with anything heavier than a coffee. So he shakes his head with a closed lip smile, silently mourning his peaceful, indulgent breakfast for one. It’s a fair trade though, he concedes – drinking his fill of Eggsy while the boy places down a napkin and cutlery anyway and says, “Just in case you change your mind.”

Harry has a million questions, wishes dearly that Eggsy would take the seat opposite him and they could catch up. But by the look of the line at the front counter inside, he’s already lingered too long. Eggsy’s noticed too, and jerks his head back with an exaggerated cringe, “Better get back. I’ll bring your coffee out right away.”

He quickly retreats to the counter and for a moment Harry worries he’ll be eaten alive by the ravenous looking caffeine fiends who stand tapping their toes impatiently at him. But then Eggsy cracks that warm, infectious smile of his and just like magic the crowd is charmed. Harry watches, rapt, as each he efficiently takes orders and relays them to the young woman operating the espresso machine. Harry is quite content observing, watching Eggsy cheerily greet his regulars and trade quips with the woman that make them both cackle with laughter. His attention is drawn, though, when his phone buzzes on the table. A text for their young Lancelot – ‘Hope you’re enjoying your breakfast ;)’

Harry scoffs as realisation dawns and at once he feels a little gullible – he had wondered why Roxy was so eager to recommend her favourite café for his morning off, but Harry had just assumed she was indeed as passionate about their signature eggs benedict as she’d insisted. He’s trying to think of some witty, yet grateful, response when a steaming mug is placed in his field of vision.

“Sorry about that,” Eggsy motions back towards the counter where the line has now dissipated, “I’m not actually supposed to be on table service today, but I couldn’t have you waited on by just anybody, could I?”

Harry doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so instead he airs his earlier thoughts, “I feared I’d lost you to the angry mob,”

Eggsy scoffs, “Insatiable, that lot. Nah they’re alright – it’s the weekday crowd’s the nightmare. Least these ones have nowhere better to be since they’re in here at 10 on a Saturday. No offence.” 

Harry chuckles along with him and then as if he’d heard Harry’s earlier internal pining, Eggsy slips easily into the seat opposite him.

“It’s my break,” Eggsy protests when Harry raises an eyebrow at him. The glare he’s getting from his co-worker at the counter strongly suggests otherwise but it must all be in good fun because Eggsy discreetly shows her his finger and she just rolls her eyes.

“So,” Eggsy starts, “What are you doing in here with nothing better to do at 10 on a Saturday, anyway?”

Harry pointedly turns his phone face down and replies, “A rare morning off. I wasn’t sure what to do with all the free time, if I’m honest. So here I am.”

“So here you are,” Eggsy agrees quietly with a sweet smile.

Harry’s never been one to shy away from eye contact but he finds himself wishing Eggsy wouldn’t stare at him so reverently as he is now. Harry stirs his coffee unnecessarily just for a reason to look away. He takes a quick sip (it’s far too hot) and when he looks back, Eggsy’s expression has turned to expectant and Harry has to laugh.

“A gentleman doesn’t fish for compliments, Eggsy. But it’s lovely, thank you.”

“Well I’m no gentleman, am I? And baristas do.” It’s a touchy subject Harry had hoped to avoid so early, but Eggsy says it with not a hint of bitterness in his tone so Harry relaxes.

“Not the direction I’d have guessed for you when we first met,” he concedes.

Eggsy nods emphatically, “You and me both. But here we are.”

With that, it seems, the subject is put to rest. Harry’s relieved – although there’s much more to be said about all that went on those many years ago, Eggsy’s place of work on a lazy weekend morning is neither the time, nor place. Instead, they move on to lighthearted, yet no less meaningful, catch up topics. Harry tells Eggsy as much as he can about his new position as Arthur (mostly moaning about the highly skewed ratio of boring paperwork to daring fieldwork) and Eggsy tells him about his sister, his mother, his little flat just two streets down from the café, and JB. 

Harry’s coffee has been drained and the dregs at the bottom are ice cold by the time they fall into a comfortable silence. Harry feels a little dazed as if he’d been stuck in a trance as he notices the diners around them are a complete new set and the sun is no longer behind Eggsy but has moved to directly above their heads. Harry checks his watch and shoots Eggsy a regretful smile.

“I’m afraid I must be off, Eggsy,” he explains, gathering his phone from the table.

“Oh sure,” Eggsy nods, looking for all he’s worth like he’s feeling just as dizzied as Harry, “Got plenty planned for your big day off, I bet.”

They both stand and Harry shakes his head, “Back to the office, I’m afraid. The morning off was all I could swing. We’re in the middle of recruiting three new handlers. Mass walkout of support staff after a breach at headquarters a few months ago. Poor Merlin would’ve been sent grey by the whole ordeal, were that a possibility.”

Harry’s saying too much and he knows it, but Eggsy’s looking slightly crestfallen and it’s all Harry can do not to grab him by the shoulders and yell ‘I would sit with you and listen to you speak all day if I could’ into his face.

Eggsy nods along, looking appropriately sympathetic, and then brightens, “Shop’s just around the corner, I’ll walk you.”

Harry’s stomach begins clenching again and he can only half attribute that to hunger which is now bordering ravenous after his skipped meal. 

“I’m sure you’re needed inside,” he says, nodding to the café, despite wanting nothing more than to extend his time with Eggsy even the ten or so minutes the walk back to the tailors’ would allow.

But Eggsy just shakes his head and rewards Harry with that sharp, cunning smirk of his, winks, and says, “Nah, it’s time for my actual break, anyway.”

Then Eggsy laughs uproariously at Harry’s scandalised expression and he sweeps Harry away onto the street with a hand at his lower back. He lingers, warm even through Harry’s jacket, but pulls away after a few moments, and Harry glad because the butterflies in his stomach (as he’s confirmed that’s what the churning must be – pesky little things) threaten to put him to his knees at even the briefest touch.

“You mustn’t get yourself in trouble on my behalf, Eggsy,” he chastises, and is quietly proud that his voice stays level despite feeling like he might burst into hysterical giggles at any moment. God, Hart. Just… god.

“If I’m getting in trouble for anything-” Eggsy teases, “-it’s for letting my only table walk away without paying.”

Harry stops dead in his tracks but his attempt to turn immediately back to the café and make amends is aborted by Eggsy laughing again, louder this time, and dragging him along with a hand rested comfortably in the crook of Harry’s elbow.

Harry is nothing if not a born gentleman, so despite the hot, feverish flush of embarrassment at having accidentally dined and dashed for the first time in his life, he still obediently falls into stride and folds for Eggsy’s hand to properly settle into his arm. This time, Eggsy doesn’t pull away and suddenly they’re like every other couple walking along enjoying a morning of shopping and sunshine as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Indeed, when Harry sneaks a glance, there’s this proud little expression on Eggsy’s face. Similar to when he was praised back at Kingsman for his exemplary testing scores, only softer.

“Forgive me, Eggsy,” he says, for his thievery has not been forgotten despite the moment, “I completely forgot.”

“It’s on the house, don’t worry about it,” Eggsy assures him, squeezing his arm.

“Your manager won’t be cross?”

“My co-owner-” Eggsy corrects with a grin, “-gives free drinks to gorgeous blokes all the time, so she can bloody well keep her mouth shut if she objects to me doing the same,”

The compliment isn’t lost on Harry but it is pushed aside by the more pressing revelation that Harry has not just stolen from the café but from Eggsy himself. He hums, impressed.

“You own the café?”

“Yup. Me and Sophie – the girl out front with me.”

“A friend of yours?” Harry can’t help it – he’s every bit the little shit Merlin calls him. She was quite pretty after all, and he just has to know.

“The best,” Eggsy assures, and he squeezes Harry’s arm again, “We were mates in school. Kinda grew apart for a while there but after V-Day, I dunno…”

He shrugs, quietening even at his own mention of the event.

“Soph lost her husband. Only been married two months. He was at the football. Big stadium, all those people. Never stood a chance.”

They both take a moment’s pause and Harry’s about to say something, anything, when Eggsy brightens.

“Smart guy though – he had all his insurance sorted so she’d be set up if anything ever happened to him. Took bloody ages for the money to come in, you know how it was-“

He didn’t, having been recovering from his death for the majority of the fallout of V-Day, but he had heard later on what a nightmare it had been – insurance companies left slack jawed and floundering, not sure who to pay out first.

“-but when it finally did, she sat on it for ages. Didn’t know what to do with herself, just kept it locked away. By this time I’d been working a few shifts a week at this little joint, learned enough about coffee to know I could do it better,”

His tone is quietly proud and Harry adores it, so he offers - “Quite.” just to feel him preen.

“Anyway, long story short here we are. Took a few years to really find our feet but we’re doing good. Really good. Not Kingsman money, mind –“ he winks cheekily at Harry, “-but enough to keep comfortable, look after mum and Dais where I can.”

He looks so prideful – so healthy, and youthful, and beautiful – and his hand fits so nicely in Harry’s arm, and god, how Harry’s missed him. It’s a genuine stab to the gut when Harry realises they’ve come to a halt outside Kingsman. Eggsy removes his hand and turns to face him, but doesn’t move too far away.

“I walk by sometimes,” he admits, nodding to shopfront, “Always wanted to drop in but I think Andrew’d drop me on sight,”

Harry secretly agrees. The only reason those intruders got through was that Kingsman’s unassuming but deadly frontman was on annual leave. Were he at his station in the shopfront like normal, Harry’s confident they’d have barely made it through the foyer. As it is, he’s probably peering through the window right now wondering if the two men lingering on his doorstep are a threat.

As he’s thinking all this, Eggsy’s gaze on the mannequins in the window has gone soft and wistful, the only trace Harry’s seen today of regret for the way things turned out.

“You’d have made an exemplary Kingsman, Eggsy,” he blurts rather abruptly before he can stop himself, though he’s glad for it when Eggsy turns back to him with a small smile.

“My only regret,” he continues, “is that I couldn’t have been around to ensure things went the way they should have.”

Truthfully, he’s not sure what he could have done. The table took a vote long prior to Harry’s return and the verdict was clear – Eggsy had executed his first and only mission beautifully, but he still hadn’t passed the dog test. Eggsy probably knows the same, but he nods, appreciative of the gesture, and then shrugs, “Nah, look, we both know Rox deserved Lancelot. She was born for this.“ He gestures vaguely towards Kingsman.

“And y’know, it’s probably for the best.”

Has Eggsy drifted closer? Harry didn’t see his feet move but he’s suddenly craning his neck down further than before to meet Eggsy’s eyes, which are sparkling green in a curious, mischievous way.

“Yes, well…” Harry scrambles for words, still trying to calculate why now he can smell coffee and pastries as well as a familiar, warm smell that’s distinctly Eggsy, on every breath, “You have made quite the life for yourself.”

Eggsy nods, “Sure, yeah, I’m doing good. But I was thinking more… Kingsman would have been great and all, but I bet there’s all sorts of bylaws-“

He reaches up now, a hand curling in Harry’s lapel so that he’s forced to stoop a little, while Eggsy brings himself up onto tiptoes to meet him.

“-‘bout fraternizing between agents and all that-“

Harry can taste every word, could count each of Eggsy’s eyelashes, or the smattering of miniscule freckles across his nose.

“-that’d stop me from doing this.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I might have written Harry a little too soft and bumbling here so apologies if it’s not to your taste, but I tend to like the idea that Eggsy is Harry Kryptonite and throws him off a little. Plus, y’know, c'est la coffee shop AU. 
> 
> Not beta'd so apologies for mistakes.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)


End file.
